


The Glorious Tale of Love, Deceit, and Milkshakes

by ikeracity, kageillusionz, Pangea



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternative Universe - Robin Hood Fusion, Anal Sex, Charles thinks he has a cunning plan, Crack, Erik is just amused by him, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Robin Hood AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikeracity/pseuds/ikeracity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageillusionz/pseuds/kageillusionz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangea/pseuds/Pangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles climbs through a window for milkshakes in order to save his Merry X-Men from certain death at Sheriff Shaw's hand and his right-hand man Erik.  Only Charles is painfully transparent and Erik sees through his plan.</p><p>(Or: The things Charles will do for milkshakes and the things Erik will let him do for milkshakes with Robin Hood! Charles and Guy of Gisborne!Erik written for elsian's birthday.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glorious Tale of Love, Deceit, and Milkshakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsian/gifts).



> Written for elsian's 40th birthday as written by the Panguin, Grizzkera and Kagrillz. Hope you had a brilliant one gorgeous!
> 
> Hopefully we've covered all our bases by smushing Robin Hood and Cherik along with crack, fluff and smexy times!

The plan was simple: sneak into Erik’s room (not as difficult as it sounds given the frequency of this happening), bone him into submission (also not a hardship - well - no, don’t go and make terrible puns, Charles) and then sneak away with Erik’s keys to save his Merry X-Men from certain annihilation come morning at the hands of the Sheriff. 

Completely and utterly simple; nothing could possibly go wrong, Charles thinks as he aims and fires an arrow through Erik’s window, waiting for the rope at his feet to uncoil fully. He had been entirely sceptical when Hank pressed the new invention into his hands - arrows weren’t exactly known to hold much weight in the past – but Hank had assured him-

“AHHHH _MY LEG_. SOMEONE SHOT ME IN THE FOOKIN’ LEG. WE’RE BEING ATTACKED. SOUND THE ALARMS.”

“Oh shut up. That was just a mosquito.”

Charles let out a sigh of relief. Some spy he makes, Charles thinks to himself as he presumes to scale up the side of the castle wall and into Erik’s room, the motions well-practised and familiar to him.

Solid plans were the best plans. Sure, it might lead to four hours of marathon sex - damn Erik and his genes, oh and his rather fantastic cock and frightening refractory period - Charles had to make sure Erik would be completely and utterly fucked out of his mind in order for the plan to go ahead smoothly.

He climbs through the window, shimmying butt first - the better to highlight his best asset given how bright candles shine and Erik often only lit one if he wasn't expecting any late night guests, the cheap bastard. And by now, Erik would have heard the commotion going on above him and if he had been asleep, he definitely wouldn't be now, especially not when Charles' fantastic arse, and the rest of his fantastic self, just made the fifty or so metres climb to blow Erik's mind - figuratively speaking.

Charles waits for Erik to notice him, coiling up the rope in preparation for his descent later and purrs almost indecently when he feels familiar hands, warm and possessive, settle on his hips.

"And what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Erik's voice rumbled in his ear, his tall lean frame stooping down to nuzzle into Charles' hair.

Oh, just the keys to the dungeon. "Nothing special," Charles purrs instead, dropping the rope next to their feet and pivoting around to hook his arms around Erik's neck. "Just missed you and your milkshakes."

Erik lets out a bark of laughter, raising one eyebrow. "I find this hard to believe given how your band of Merry X-men are currently locked up in the dungeons below us."

Charles pouts. How dare this man see through his cunning plan. "No. I am definitely here because I missed you. Because I've been wrongly accused, you owe me a kiss. Several actually."

"Do I now?" Erik asked, amusement rolling off him in waves.

"Yes." The word is barely past his lips before Erik slams him back against the wall beside the window, slipping a knee between his legs and attacking Charles’ mouth with his own. Their teeth clash as Erik licks his way into Charles’ mouth, demanding and insistent, and it’s all Charles can do to hold on to the front of Erik’s shirt and let Erik take control.

“You’re ridiculous,” Erik murmurs against his lips when he pulls back a little, and then ducks his head down to press an open-mouthed kiss against Charles’ throat. He shifts his knee upwards at the same time, pressing firmly against Charles’ crotch.

“Says you,” Charles tries to say sweetly, but unfortunately it comes out more along the lines of a moan as he shifts in Erik’s grip, rolling his hips and grinding against Erik’s knee shamelessly. At Erik’s encouraging, he tilts his head back against the wood panelling of the wall with a soft thud to allow Erik better access to his neck and throat, which Erik takes full advantage of, trailing kisses and small nips all the way down until he reaches the juncture of Charles’ neck and shoulder, where he bites down and sucks until Charles is squirming.

“What’s that?” Erik asks him, and Charles can feel his toothy grin against his skin. “Couldn’t quite make that out.”

“Just--” Charles rocks against Erik’s knee some more, writhing where he’s trapped between Erik and the wall. “ _Fuck_ me already, we both know that’s what I’m here for--” 

“You’re still lying,” Erik says with a light sigh, but he doesn’t give Charles time to protest and instead scoops him up, grabbing him by the ass and lifting him so that Charles can wrap his legs around Erik’s trim waist.

Charles gives himself a little leverage by wrapping his arms around Erik’s neck and pulling himself flush against Erik’s chest as Erik carries him across the room. He’ll never admit it but Charles loves being held in Erik’s strong, capable arms. He’s nearly cost them a mission once before, when he was too caught up in staring at Erik’s finely-crafted arms. It’s amazing that his Merry X-Men aren’t onto him.

They kiss again, Charles sucking hard on Erik’s tongue with a moan as Erik’s large hands knead his ass. He thrusts up against Erik’s flat belly, his fully-hard cock trapped between them, and he doesn’t even realize that they’ve reached the bed until he’s abruptly falling backwards through the air, letting out an extremely undignified yelp when he hits the mattress and bounces back onto the sheets.

“What was that for?” Charles demands, even as he scoots backwards up the bed, kicking off his boots and pulling his tunic up and over his head to toss aside as well.

Erik huffs out a laugh and doesn’t answer, pulling his own shirt off too and letting it drop before getting to work on the ties of his leggings. Charles can’t help but stare as Erik steps out of his pants, completely and gloriously nude by the edge of the bed, muscles sharply defined by the flickering glow of his predictable single lit candle. Erik’s body is a thing of beauty and perfection and if Charles were a little less self-absorbed he’d be jealous.

“Well?” Erik asks wryly when he sees Charles has stopped moving entirely and is staring a little slack-jawed at Erik’s cock.

“Shut it,” Charles mutters, snapping out of it and getting rid of his own pants, joining Erik in complete nudity. “Now get up here and fuck me.”

“Only you would climb in through my window in the middle of the night and then be so demanding,” Erik says with a roll of his eyes even as he complies, kneeling on the bed and crawling forward until he’s directly over Charles, bracketing him in with his arms and legs. He peers down at Charles through the dim half-light, and for a moment Charles can’t make out what sort of expression he holds in his gaze.

“It had better only be me,” he says, pitching his tone to just the right amount of arrogance he knows will make Erik--ah yes, there it is, a growl and then one rough, calloused hand closing around his cock and beginning to stroke. It’s dry and only just a little ways away from too much and painful but it’s perfect, and Charles hisses and arches into the contact.

“Shh,” Erik says, raising up on his knees a little bit so he can place his other hand flat against Charles’ belly soothingly, “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

This is the part where Charles always wants to be able to bite out a careless, witty remark but the fact remains that he’s never been able to, always thrown off his guard by how achingly tender Erik can be when he’s not actively trying to be a...complete wanker.

Erik slows his strokes on Charles’ cock, bending down again to kiss him. Charles reciprocates by latching onto him like a limpet, pulling him down until Erik’s warm weight covers him like a blanket, and they both groan as their cocks rub together, a slow burn of delicious friction.

Charles thrusts his hips up, dragging his cock against Erik’s until Erik practically snarls at him, pushing him down against the sheets and holding him there, one broad hand splayed out across Charles’ chest. Panting and self-satisfied, Charles falls still for the time being, watching as Erik reaches over to the bedside stand and yanks open the drawer, rummaging around until he finds a small, very-familiar jar.

“You’re so impatient,” Erik growls, a low sound that originates from deep within his chest that always serves to thicken his accent as well as turn Charles on even more--the cherry on top of a particularly delectable dick sundae. If Charles had to pick a flavour, it was definitely chocolate. “Always so easy.”

“Only for you,” Charles purrs, spreading his legs as wide as they’ll go, arching his back for a moment in a luxurious stretch so that absolutely nothing is left to Erik’s imagination.

Erik fumbles with the lid of the jar, and Charles hides a smirk because now who’s the one with the ridiculous, slack expression? He gets the lid off and swipes two fingers through the slick inside, and then adjusts himself between Charles’ spread legs.

Charles can’t help the small noise he makes when Erik brings his fingers down to tease the edges of Charles’ puckered hole before slipping one finger inside. He thrusts it in and out quickly, rubbing the slick all across Charles’ inner walls and stretching him out, rough and quick and efficient and just how Charles likes it. Charles moves back against Erik’s finger, demanding more, and it isn’t long before Erik adds a second finger inside him, scissoring them to stretch him further.

“If you don’t--fuck me--right now,” Charles pants, hands twisted in the bedsheets with a knuckle-white grip, “I’m going to--”

“What?” Erik asks, because he is a complete wanker and apparently enjoys watching Charles writhe against his fingers. “Leave?” He pulls his hand back, leaving Charles clenching on nothing and horribly aroused. Erik leans down close, breathing into Charles’ ear. “I don’t think so.”

Charles shudders and moans, and then there’s pressure against his ass as Erik bears down on him, pressing forward until the fat head of his cock pushes in past the ring of Charles’ muscle and slides in, a slow, slick drag that has Charles shifting again, whimpering in need without really meaning to, until Erik quiets him by shakily stroking his flank.

Erik rolls his hips carefully, sliding in and in and in until he’s fully seated inside Charles, his balls flush against Charles’ ass, and like always Charles is utterly in awe of how full he feels, stretched to his limits, and nothing could be better than this except--

“Move,” he gasps out, jerking his hips forward, “god, Erik, move, I need you to move, _move_ \--”

Erik pulls back, nearly pulling out of Charles entirely and then slams forward, so hard that Charles slides a little ways up the bed as they groan in unison. Erik does it again, working up into a steady rhythm, pounding into Charles relentlessly. He braces his arms on either side of Charles’ head, dropping his face back down into Charles’ neck and shoulder so he can go back to leaving his mark there, sucking and biting at Charles’ skin as he continues to fuck into Charles like a well-oiled machine.

Charles snaps his hips up in time with Erik, meeting him thrust for thrust, gripping his forearms tightly and digging his nails in hard enough to leave marks, filling the air with breathless panting. His own cock is trapped leaking between them, smearing precome against his belly in a wet, glistening trail. He’s so hard it nearly hurts, but at the same time he’s nearly delirious with the pleasure of Erik driving into him, fucking him until he can barely see straight.

Erik changes his angle, his pace quickening and Charles gives a loud cry the first time Erik’s cock nails his prostate, lighting every single one of his nerves on fire. His toes are curling, his entire body tensing up with the lightning curdling low in his belly as he reaches the edge, wordless babbling falling past his lips incoherently until he finally crashes over, coming with a cry of Erik’s name, shooting off white and sticky between them.

He shakes through the aftershocks of orgasm and Erik continues to fuck him through it, his thrusts growing erratic as he too begins to lose control, balls drawing up tense and tight before he finally slams himself home deep inside Charles and comes with a moan, a burst of wet heat filling Charles to the brim. Erik wavers for a moment, balanced above him on shaky arms, and then he collapses down on top of him, still buried inside him.

They lie there in silence for a long few minutes, long enough for the sweat on their bodies to cool and for Erik’s heat on top of him to get uncomfortable. Charles endures it for as long as he can, reluctant to break contact, but eventually, it gets too stifling to breathe and he has to nudge Erik in the side with his knee. With a groan, Erik pulls out of him in a too-rough slide that has them both wincing and then collapses into the sheets on his belly by Charles’s side. Charles stares at the ceiling and asks, “Good?” 

“You know the answer to that,” Erik mumbles into his pillow. He sounds drowsy. Good. He’s always sleepy after sex, and Charles plans on using that to his advantage. He feels the tiniest bit guilty now when he turns his head to look at Erik’s face, slack with contentment, eyes drifting shut of their own volition. Erik trusts him. How the hell that happened, he has no idea, but the fact that the lawman is willing to close his eyes and sleep with a criminal like Charles in his bed speaks volumes. Charles almost feels regretful, until he remembers Raven and Alex and Sean and the others. His friends are depending on him. There’s no time to be sentimental now. 

He waits until Erik has dropped off into a doze before carefully sitting up. Even in that small movement, he can feel the dull ache between his legs. It’s not the first time Erik has taken him so roughly, but it hasn’t gotten easier. He’s definitely going to be feeling this for some time. Gingerly, he slides off the bed and steps over to the washroom. He finds a cloth within and wets it with warm water from the pitcher before using it to give himself a perfunctory wipedown. Then he rinses the cloth out and wets it again. Folding it in two, he lays it on the small table beside the bed. It might be dry by the time Erik wakes, but at least he’ll have something. 

Charles dresses quickly, reeling back his emotions as he does. He’s got a job to do here, and no matter how impossibly fond Charles feels when he sees Erik sprawled bonelessly in bed like that, he can’t be distracted. So he averts his eyes and sets about scouring the room for what he’s really come for. It doesn’t take long; for a man who acts so mysterious, Erik is surprisingly and, Charles admits, endearingly predictable. The key is tucked in the toe of his left boot, and it shakes out easily into Charles’s palm. All right. That’s half the work done already. 

When he turns back, Erik has his eyes open and is watching him. 

“Um,” Charles says, shooting a furtive glance at the door, then at the window, then back at Erik. He could leap for the window, he thinks. He’d make it before Erik so much as untangled himself from the sheets. But he can’t leave yet, not without freeing Raven and the others. If Erik raises the alarm now...

“Find it well enough?” Erik asks with a yawn. 

Charles blinks. “What?”

“Didn’t want to make it too difficult,” Erik replies, sitting up to draw the coverlet up over himself. “I know how impatient you get.” 

He’s fairly certain he’s gaping at this point. “You _meant_ for me to...?”

“To what?” Erik asks airily. He lies back down and shuts his eyes again. “I just had some fantastic sex, and I am going to sleep. I have no control over you or what you choose to do while I’m unconscious.” 

Erik isn’t raising the alarm. Erik is going to let him do this--is practically encouraging him to do this. Charles can’t explain the sudden burst of warmth in his chest. Imagine that. The Sheriff’s right-hand man, turning a blind eye to his greatest enemy. 

“Thank you,” he says, gripping the iron key tightly in his hand. 

“For what?” Erik asks, his eyes still closed. “I’m asleep.” 

“Of course you are,” Charles says. After a moment of hesitation, he crosses back to the bed and leans over to press a quick kiss on Erik’s lips. Erik startles and starts to lean up to chase the contact as Charles breaks away, but Charles pushes him back down. “Asleep, I thought?”

“Bastard,” Erik mutters, but his eyes remain shut. As Charles heads for the door, Erik adds, “You might want to be careful on the third floor landing. A certain guard named Azazel has a pike he’s been meaning to drive through your throat for ages.” 

Charles winces. “Really. That’s heartening.” Then he pauses. “You’re awfully helpful for someone who’s unconscious.” 

“I talk in my sleep,” Erik answers, turning over so that his back is facing Charles. “Now go before I really do have to call the alarm on you.” 

Charles doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips out the door and closes it gently behind him, the iron key a solid weight in his hand as he does. 

Later, when they’re scampering off through the forest, leaving nothing but silence in their wake, Raven demands, “How the hell did you get to us? I thought we were dead for sure.” 

Charles tells them the truth: that it involved a lot of sweat, maybe a few tears, and a healthy dose of charm. He tells them he got right down to fucking business, and it’s meant to sound determinedly heroic, but then he thinks of the way Erik’s fingers had felt against his skin, of the way Erik had sounded when he’d fucked up into Charles, and then he can’t stop the blush that suffuses his cheeks. Thank God for the dark, he thinks. Thank God no one can see the bruise on his shoulder, or notice the way his step hitches a little as he runs, the twinges of his spent body a little fiercer when he moves too quickly. At least they hadn’t had to fight at all; Charles had managed to slip in, release the prisoners, and slip right back out, all the while avoiding the third landing. All in all, it had been a much smoother rescue than he’d expected, and there’s only one person who gets the credit for that. 

He’s going to have to thank Erik properly later, he muses. Maybe he’ll get adventurous. Maybe he’ll let Erik try something new. And maybe next time he’ll dare to stay the night through, dare to fall asleep beside Erik and afford Erik the same trust that Erik affords him. The thought should frighten him--how vulnerable he would be in Erik’s bed, asleep and defenseless, and how easy it would be for Erik to hold Charles down and shout for guards, for Shaw--but he isn’t afraid at all. 

In fact, he can’t deny that he’s already looking forward to it.


End file.
